


Outside the Gates

by insaneAdventurer



Series: Outside the Gates [1]
Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Medieval, F/F, Falling In Love, Love, Romance, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:14:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24397858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/insaneAdventurer/pseuds/insaneAdventurer
Summary: The life of a dreamer is no easy one, especially when one's wishes seem out of reach.After escaping her troubled life, Catra finds peace in a cottage beyond the walls of the Kingdom of Bright Moon. No visitors, no problems, no worries.When a blonde stranger shows up exploring in the woods, she can't help but write stories about her and hope that they'll meet again. Who is she and, why does she want her?
Relationships: Adora & Catra (She-Ra), Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Series: Outside the Gates [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1761739
Comments: 3
Kudos: 28





	Outside the Gates

**Author's Note:**

> This is a story about love, companionship and growth. 
> 
> Additional tags and notes will be added as the story continues! Let me know if you'd like to read more.

There are an infinite number of ways to illustrate want. Want could be found in the folded corners of a page within a book. It could be found in the firm grasp of a warm drink. It could be found in the gentle lap of waves on one’s feet. It could even be found in the way a plant follows the sun, the way a note is intimately written and in looking out an open window, a sigh escaping parted lips. 

For Catra, want was portrayed in frustratingly carrying out her menial tasks. The act of chopping up wood outside her humble home in the woods was coupled with her constant distaste for the mundane. There are a limited number of days in which one would tolerate such arduous labor, especially for such an extended amount of time. Truth be told, she knew not how long she had held residence here. Instead, she knew only that she had tried convincing herself ages ago that such separation from others had given her a comfort unbeknownst to many - peaceful respite.

Catra knew that dwelling upon instances in her past life only opened up wounds, creating the sensation that her breath, much like her freedom, had been stolen from her ages ago. Her time alone however had offered her a blessing not many receive - the ability to reflect upon one’s actions and manifest a new identity for herself that extended beyond her old one. Oh, how the words had stung.

Failure. Damaged. Unwanted.

She shook her head at such thoughts and wiped the sweat from her brow, grunting before continuing to work on the wood.

Following her escape from her life before, she found comfort miles beyond the walls of a nearby Kingdom. The distance was welcome, for it had allowed not only growth but inspiration for her work - writing. The pages within her journals would not judge her as those before had done. Instead, it offered up a place to organize thoughts and the occasional list when going into town to purchase groceries. Today, the journal would be filled with her ramblings about the stranger that appeared just beyond her home.

-

Not many visitors made their way to this part of the forest, seeing as how the hustle and bustle of the town usually drew in travelers and those just passing by. The town held promise in the form of its engaging events and the inviting energy of those who oversaw it. The crowds never drew Catra in, but this stranger did. Someone was walking in between the trees, hand passing over the bark of the trees as they spun around them. They hummed quietly.

Catra stopped chopping wood and carefully approached the hooded stranger in the distance. She crept up behind the trees, hesitatingly taking steps so as to not alert the figure with the crack of leaves and twigs. As she approached, the figure took shape - a blonde woman with her arms outstretched beside her as she playfully balanced along a log in the pond before her. Catra watched her for a moment with her breath held, afraid that if she were to breathe that the girl would disappear. 

The blonde woman laughed, hood falling to her shoulders. Upon her head lay a small golden circlet and hair that extended just beyond her shoulders. It was as if all revolved around her, the sun existing only to add golden hues to her shape and the earth beneath her supporting every step. Catra’s grip on the axe lessened as she stared in awe. Eventually, the axe fell to her feet with a thud. She froze. The female before her straightened up and jumped off the log, hurriedly putting her hood back on. She reached into her cloak and pulled out a dagger, stance indicating expertise in fighting. Catra stood still, hesitant to draw her attention. The silence was broken by the sound of approaching voices.

“Adora! Where are you?” One called out. 

The blonde quickly put away her dagger and fixed her clothing, smiling and turning to the voices. Two people approached, one with a bow in hand and the other too far behind to make out. The man marched over, groaning as the other yelled out a few things. Catra could not make out the conversation entirely but she made out the words, “...return to town,” and, “...leaving without warning isn’t safe…” Adora chuckled and the three exchanged some words before making haste out of the woods. Before turning away completely, the blonde looked over in Catra’s direction one last time, still searching for the source of the sound. After a moment, her eyes met the feline. Catra felt her breath hitch in her chest, her hand reaching up to meet it. The blonde moved to approach, but her friends called out to her. She stopped and turned away, running to meet them. After losing sight of them completely, Catra exhaled and leaned against the tree behind her, piecing together this instance. Soon after, she reached down to pick up her axe and returned home. 

That night, she wrote about her. She wrote of her presence, her intoxicating laugh, the fall of the hood against her toned shoulders, the shining circlet that adorned her head and the curiosities that befell her.


End file.
